I think I’m strong- I know I’m strong- but even the strong falter. It’s OK to admit that you’re simply human. It’s that honesty with yourself and allowing your own perception of yourself to be less straining. This thought has occupied my mind for so long that it almost seems and feels as though I’m trying to sell myself a myth in believing it, or something like it.

Largely, what this whole thought process about being weak and not being weak ended up with me thinking of my mugging in 2012. The mugging itself of course brought to mind what had happened to me well over a decade before that. I thought of how after the mugging I did everything in my power to prove to myself that I was strong- that I am OK. That fear does not live within me. By “everything in my power”, I mean purposefully walking around late at night- the “stupidly brave for what happened to you” kind of things…

The worst part for me was it brought to light things I’d never felt about myself, as well as much of the old feelings that I’ve written about before. The rape scars. For about two weeks to a month I lived in a bubble where I hated the look of myself in the mirror. I avoided my reflection. Maybe it’s why I’m awkward with compliments. Subconsciously thinking they might come from a place of malice instead of appreciation. That when someone says anything nice at all it’s all as a means to an end- for them.

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